Harriet Potter and The Potions Master
by Kikushi
Summary: What if instead of a son, the Potters had a daughter called Harriet with an uncanny physical resemblance to her mother, Lily, but with a personality much more like her troublemaker father, James? What will happen when Harriet catches a certain potions master's eye? FemHarry/Severus.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I obviously do not own Harry Potter. Otherwise, Draco Malfoy would be tapping that mighty fine behind of Luna Lovegood's.

.Read below.

**A/N, (Read Me First!):** To lessen unecessary complications, I've made many changes; the most obvious being that the protagonist in this story is a girl called Harriet Potter, The-Girl-Who-Lived. The night her parents were murdered, Lord Voldermort also died by the rebounding curse. So no complicated horcruxes and prophecies! Yay! That's it for him; he will _NOT_ be coming back in this story. Also, to make Snape seem less like a pedophile, I've progressed the time so that when they first meet, Harriet is already 17 years old. So it's kind of like a Tonks/Remus thing. Okay, okay; enough. On to the story!

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**Harriet Potter and the Potions Master**

**Prologue**

**By: Kikushi**

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It was a midday afternoon and the sun was beaming down from the cloudless sky, a pleasant breeze combing through the trees and swirling about joyfully in the beautiful weather. Almost everyone was outside enjoying the happy sunshine, frolicking through the fields and flowers, laughing with each other in good play. Beaches and pools alike were crowded with visitors and parks were equally occupied—

And in the middle of a small, dim room, curtains shut tightly from the peeking sun, possessions scattered about violently, sat a young woman in her late teens. Brows furrowed and lips tightly pursed, she rummaged through a large, open trunk with a vengeance. Her eyes were very wet and shone quite noticeably even in the dimness.

"All this rubbish…" she muttered angrily reaching inside the trunk and pulling out several heavy-looking books; and, with all the energy she could muster, sent them flying across the room where they hit the opposite wall with a heavy thud and fell limply to the floor, worn and dejected.

"Harriet!" a shrill voice yelled from the floor below the room, "What was that noise?"

"Nothing!" Harriet called back sweetly, though tears were now flowing down her cheeks, "Just, er, dropped some stuff!"

She hastily wiped her leaking eyes with the back of her hand and pulled out from the trunk a handsome Holly wand about eleven inches long, carefully carved and polished. Harriet waved it in the air and the violent mess seemed to collect itself magically; books piled themselves on top of each other in neat stacks, dirty clothes zoomed to the laundry basket while clean ones floated to empty hangers or folded themselves on the bed, and other miscellaneous items organized themselves in categorized boxes lining the walls. The floor, which had been previously unrecognizable, now boasted spotless glossy wooden planks; the room looked completely clean.

Harriet Potter stood on the balls of her feet, unimpressed by the sudden cleanliness of what had seconds ago been chaos. Sixteen years ago, precisely on this date, she had been an innocent one-year-old living with her parents in a place called Godric's Hollow, a famous wizard's village some place in London. Her oblivious happiness with them had been cut short when a worldwide feared wrongdoer under the name of "Lord Voldemort" stormed inside their house and murdered her parents and tried, in vain, to kill Harriet herself.

Harriet sighed, stepping in front of a wall mirror propped in a corner of the room. Absently, she brushed away her bangs and rubbed the hidden lightning-shaped scar on her forehead, frowning. Of all the unusual things about Harriet, even the fact that Harriet was a witch, the scar was the most extraordinary. The day that the evil wizard Lord Voldemort had tried to cast the spell that would have ended Harriet's life had been his last. The curse had rebounded— Harriet was left with nothing but an odd scar, while Lord Voldemort perished, and vanished forever. As one of the greatest mysteries in the Wizarding World, Harriet was notoriously known as "The-Girl-Who-Lived."

She twirled around in her light blue Beauxbaton uniform. The thought of never wearing it again pained her immensely and she fell to the floor in anguish. There were no tears on her face— for she had already cried herself dry— but the sadness that lingered exhausted her.

Harriet stared back at her reflection from the floor, her expression blank. She studied her thick, long black hair that fell in soft waves to her elbows— a genetic trait that aroused many of her French friends' envy— and then stared hard at the bright green eyes that she had inherited from her mother. She often heard enough from her adoptive godmother how uncannily she resembled her mother, Lily. If not for the color of her hair, Harriet was constantly reminded, it would seem as if Lily Potter had risen from the grave, so alike were they in appearance.

Harriet turned away from the mirror and felt a strong longing for her parents. If only they had never died…

It was with a heavy heart that Harriet returned to her packing, kneeling in front of her school trunk. She was permanently leaving France with her spontaneous godmother and famed historian, Bathilda Bagshot. Aunt Bathilda, as Harriet called her, had moved her to France from their little dwelling in Godric's Hollow a few months before Harriet had turned eleven. She briefly recalled the temper tantrum she'd had upon hearing the news. She had shouted and screamed that she wanted to stay, wanted to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where her parents had also gone to school… Nevertheless, Aunt Bathilda had taken her to France, a country she had grown to love, and put her in a marvelous school of magic, Beauxbatons Academy.

But Aunt Bathilda had finally finished her work and her books, and now it was time to go back to Godric's Hollow in London, where Aunt Bathilda told her she could finish her seventh year of school in Hogwarts under special arrangements she had made with the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

There was a sharp knock on her door that made her jump and Harriet turned in time to see her godmother enter her room. "All packed, dear?" she asked Harriet fondly, gazing around brightly at the dim room.

Sniffing subtly, Harriet got to her feet and nodded mutely, giving another flick of her sleek Holly wand and storing everything effectively inside the remaining empty boxes. The boxes, mirror, bed, curtains, desk, stool, posters, and rug were pulled into the trunk as though being sucked into a black hole and vanished within its bottomless depths. The room now stood hollow and empty, devoid of any furniture and signs of life.

Pointing her wand at her trunk, Harriet cried, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The trunk rose two feet into the air and, with another flick of Harriet's wand, zoomed down the stairs where it clattered noisily on the landing. Following her godmother out the door, Harriet headed downstairs with one last look at her room, which she had occupied every summer and holiday break since she was eleven.

When Harriet reached the bottom step of the staircase, it was to find a completely hollow house, stripped of all of their belongings. All of a sudden, Harriet wanted nothing more than to leave as quickly as possible. She did not want to think about her new beginning in London, but she could not bear seeing the sight of their empty house. Even worse, Harriet did not want to think about her friends, who she would be leaving behind. The tearful goodbyes they had shared the day previous had left Harriet in quiet distress.

"Come along, dear," Aunt Bathilda said, appearing from the kitchen door, "I've already sent our belongings ahead, back to our old house."

Glumly, Harriet stepped out to the porch after her aunt. They stood side by side, taking one last look at what had been their home for almost six years. Aunt Bathilda found her hand and gave it a small squeeze.

"I shall see you in a second," Aunt Bathilda smiled. She let go and turned on the spot, muttering a perky, "Au revoir," before vanishing with a loud crack.

Harriet took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come and for what awaited her back in London. Confident that she could Apparate in the right place, Harriet turned, as did her godmother, and vanished back into Godric's Hollow.

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Prologue End.

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:) So if you didn't read the note at the top of this page, please do so now.

Okay, tell me what you think! Did you like it? Do you want to see it progress? etc.


	2. Surprise, surprise

**A/N: **I really want to write for this story more than I have the time for it, so we'll just all see how this turns out. And also, this story is the kind where you actually have to read it, not skim it; so no cheating or you'll miss out on some important details!

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**Harriet Potter and The Potions Master**

**Chapter 1: Surprise, surprise**

**By: Kikushi**

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It was the first day of school and Severus Snape sat stonily behind his desk, his hands clasped together in front of him, staring without seeing at the stools and tables inside his cold, empty classroom. Almost sixteen years had passed since he had unwittingly murdered the love of his life and still his thoughts, as hard as he tried to control them, wandered frequently to her memory. It was not unlike an eager dog running to meet his master, wanting to feel the warmth and share the joy and love he held for the person who had been the first to accept him…

Lily. He yearned to say her name aloud, to revel in the feeling it would give his quiet tongue; yet he feared her wrath, feeling the heavy burden of his guilt. He was entirely convinced that she condemned him for his treachery, cursing him even after death to the deepest pits of Hell from her personal Eden. He felt that even now she was scorning him, laughing at him with her preferred lover. "_Potter_," he snarled to the cold, dark room, a bubbling fury welling up inside him.

His eyes wandered to the small table clock sitting in the shelves beside his desk and he immediately reined his anger with disconcerting mastery. In a few minutes his small group of N.E.W.T. potions students would come flooding in, wondering, perhaps, why he was already present in the empty classroom when it was almost customary for him to arrive late. He scowled up at the stone ceiling and forced himself to take Lily out of his mind; no doubt she would visit his thoughts again later, without fail, in the same dreams he lived in for almost sixteen years under the cover of darkness.

_'Sixteen years… Has it really been sixteen years?' _Severus mused, drumming his fingers on the stone cold desktop. Almost nothing had changed in him since the day he had taken his teaching post at Hogwarts. Although he had stowed away his affinity for the Dark Arts and his allegiance to the Dark Lord, he found himself dully the same as he ever was— bitterer and empty, perhaps, after the death of his love, but still the same. Albus Dumbledore, the only one who the Dark Lord had ever feared, whom he had gone to and pleaded with for help, had done nothing but offer him his current teaching post as the potions master, ranting on about how he should live to keep Lily's memory alive and bear the punishment of his sins by living on. Severus, however, suspected that what Dumbledore really wanted was to keep an eye on him, most likely suspecting him to follow after the Dark Lord's footsteps. His lips curled in a frown at the thought. _Lily's child has ended him_, he thought mildly, _and there's nothing left for his followers to do... _And in any case, he, Severus Snape, was not interested in murder and power as much as he had been interested in strength and knowledge in the purpose of impressing Lily…

"Damn it all!" he hissed, slamming a heavy hand on the desktop in frustration. Lily refused to leave him be. _Her curse, no doubt_, Severus thought,_reminding me of my guilt… _But Heaven knows how he welcomed her warmly into his head.

The distinct chattering and clamoring of students gathered outside the door caught his attention. Severus briefly recalled the Headmaster warning him over breakfast about a surprise that was to arrive during this hour and dismissed it immediately before getting to his feet. His employer was without a doubt eccentric, and Severus was not in the mood for surprises. _Probably another object bewitched with dark magic_, Snape thought, his mind wandering to the time Dumbledore had sent a student to deliver a package full of harmful and bewitched artifacts for him to inspect. Debating for a moment whether or not to just use his wand, he walked to the door and pulled it so swiftly that it crashed into the wall.

The chatter faded away in an instant and his students filed quietly past him in one big, huddled group. The unwelcome package surprise from Dumbledore that he had been expecting was not handed to him, and Snape felt somewhat relieved and shut the door with a dull thud as the last student made his way inside.

"Today you will be starting the first stage of concocting Felix Felicis," he sneered, walking to the front of the room and flicking his wand at the blackboard where paragraphs of instructions appeared. "As you should all know, it takes six months to mature into, if done correctly, liquid luck. Starting now will ensure its completion before midterms. Be warned, however, that this will be counted in the exam."

A hand shot up into the air and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. "But sir," the girl inquired, "Will we be given time in class to add in several key ingredients after the allotted times—"

"That will be your responsibility, Miss Granger," he cut in coldly, "to do during your own time. Your cauldrons will stay inside my office where you can work on them during the year. Should you be misfortunate enough to, say, forget to add honey during the full moon of the third month, then you shall be graded as such."

He glared at them all, his eyes sweeping from face to face—

_Lily!_ He thought but did not say, his hands freezing in midair. He blinked several times in utter shock and bewilderment, his face pale, and his eyes resting on the unfamiliar, yet still very familiar face sitting next to Hermione Granger. Surely he must be dreaming. Had he fallen asleep on his desk, waiting for his next class with his desperate thoughts and dreams of Lily's image?

_But no, the girl's hair is black, unlike Lily's dark red…_

The entire class swiveled around in their chairs to look at the object of his shock and found their eyes resting on their new transfer classmate from France, the infamous Harriet Potter; The-Girl-Who-Lived.

He watched as her eyes lowered to her lap, her cheeks turning pink from the attention. Severus barely heard Hermione as her hand once again shot up in the air, saying, "Please, sir, this is Harriet Potter, our new transfer student from France. She was sorted privately the day before in Professor Dumbledore's office—"

Severus seemed to come back to his senses at the mention of Dumbledore's name. Collecting himself quickly, he held up a hand and Hermione fell silent. "Harriet Potter," he whispered quietly, thoroughly shaken and furious with Dumbledore, "Our new celebrity…"

The class fell silent with bated breaths as Harriet looked up and stared straight back at him. There was a challenging look in her familiar green eyes— a look he knew all too well in such a familiar face…

When she refused to look away he turned back to the blackboard coolly. "Well?" he addressed his class fiercely, sharply rapping the blackboard with his wand and making several people jump, "Why aren't you all working on this?"

There was a quick scramble for cauldrons and ingredients and Severus retreated to his desk, his back to the class. He took several deep breaths and tried to appear unconcerned while inner turmoil raged inside him. _So this is Dumbledore's surprise_, he thought angrily, his jaws aching from clenching his teeth. With tremendous effort, he willed himself to turn back to his students. No one seemed to notice that anything odd was happening to their Potions teacher. He strode up and down the rows, taking care to avoid getting too near Harriet while at the same time shooting numerous covert glances her way.

Her resemblance to her mother was uncanny. Her black hair she had obviously gotten from her father, but her other features she had certainly inherited from Lily. It took no time at all for Severus to notice how adept she was at potion making, barely glancing at her book and at the instructions on the board, she had already progressed farther than anyone else had with her Felix Felicis. Even Hermione Granger, the know-it-all of the century, lagged behind her, even if only by one line of instruction. _Apparently_, thought Severus, _Lily also gave her this skill... _He watched, transfixed on her for a few long seconds before realizing it and returned to bustling around the room, making sure no one had seen him staring.

"Ten minutes left," he told the class, "If followed correctly, you should be staring down a thick, clear concoction."

He subtly noted the two girls sitting together who had so far managed to be the only ones with thick, clear brews and returned abruptly back to his desk, fighting the urge to bury his head in his hands. "Five minutes," he spat, growing unpleasant by the minute, "Cover your cauldrons and bring them to this table up front. I will take them to my office where they will be staying for the rest of the year. We will be doing something different tomorrow and it is not my duty to remind any of you about your Felix Felicis."

He watched as Hermione Granger and Harriet Potter began clearing their work station and extinguishing the fires underneath their cauldrons. The rest were cramming last minute additions in their brews, looking worried that they wouldn't be able to finish in time.

As the noise of cleaning students filled the stony room, Severus mulled over his thoughts. How come he did not hear of Harriet Potter's arrival? Why did he not notice her during breakfast in the Great Hall? Or perhaps during lunch just an hour earlier? The moment it was time to leave, Severus pointed his wand at the assembled cauldrons, transporting them to his office, and left the room before anyone else.

Almost running in his haste up the stairs and through the corridors, he spotted the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office and bellowed the password at it. It sprang to life and leapt aside as an archway formed through the wall, revealing a moving spiral staircase that lead to a door. Severus wasted no time knocking on it once he reached the top landing.

"Come in," a cheery voice called, as though expecting the visit.

Severus stepped inside the circular room. It was an odd room, filled with many objects of interest. Portraits of previous Headmasters lined the walls and a matured phoenix was perched sleeping just beside the doorway. Albus Dumbledore stared at him from behind a large, ornate desk, smiling amusedly. He was very old, with long silvery-white hair and an even longer silvery-white beard.

"Why Severus," he exclaimed brightly, leaning back on his chair wtih his blue eyes twinkling knowingly, "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Pleasant '_surprise_'?" Severus spat, glaring at him. He began to pace to and fro, unsure of how to start, and rounded on the old man, snarling, "Speaking of _surprises_... just _what do you think you are playing at_?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows delicately and had the decency to look puzzled, even as his twinkling eyes gave him away. "I am afraid I do not _fully _understand what you mean," he said slowly.

Severus slammed his hand on Dumbledore's desk, towering over him with fury, "You know full well what it is I am talking about!" he shouted, "The girl! Lily's— Lily's—"

"Lily and James Potter's daughter?" Dumbledore interjected calmly, trying to hold back a smile, "Yes, she does look extraordinarily like Lily, does she not? Except the hair—"

"What is she doing here?" Severus cut in angrily, sweeping back and forth in the office once more, "Is this your doing? I believe you said that she had been arranged to live in France with her godmother!"

"Bathilda has had a change of heart. She confided in me that she missed London and has been away for far too long," said Dumbledore, "and because Harriet has not yet finished her last year of school, I agreed to let her transfer and sorted her here in my office just yesterday afternoon. A good Gryffindor she'll make! Just like her mother and father."

When Severus said nothing, Dumbledore pressed on, "Well Severus, what do you think?"

His face looked blank. "What do I think of what?"

"Of the girl, of course."

With another glare at his employer, Severus turned away swiftly and marched out of the room, snapping, "I do not think anything of her!" before slamming the door behind him, leaving Dumbledore quietly amused.

Perhaps it was a lucky thing that Severus Snape was unerringly loyal to Lily for Harriet proved nothing short of a temptation over the next couple of days that followed. Even so, he had to constantly remind himself that despite their many, many similarities, Harriet Potter was not, and could never be, Lily.

But if Severus thought that Harriet had only inherited her mother's personality of goodness and kindness and brilliance and rationality, then he was dreadfully wrong.

He would soon discover that Harriet Potter belonged more to her father than she let on.

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Chapter One end.

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Thank you guys, for all of your awesome feedback! Please continue to comment and tell me what you guys think.


	3. The Unfortunate Incident

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay, I'm really short on time these days. I must thank my wonderful reviewers. Without your reviews, I might have forgotten about this story for good. So thank you again, reviewers, for making this chapter happen. This one's for you guys.

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**Harriet Potter and The Potions Master**

**Chapter 2: The Unfortunate Incident**

**By: Kikushi**

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The Gryffindor common room was a warm, cozy den. Harriet sat in front of the hearth on a plush scarlet rug with her new friends, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasely, and Neville Longbottom. They had warmed greatly to the idea of letting Harriet join their trio and Harriet was grateful for their company. She was growing tired of the stares and whispers that had been following her around since the day of her arrival. It was a little past ten and they sat around chatting merrily, well-fed from dinner and reluctant to retreat to bed.

A girl, possibly a year younger, approached them and sat next to Hermione. She had long, flaming red hair with an unmistakable resemblance to Ron. He turned to face her at once, his face betraying hostility.

"What do you want?" he demanded, suspicious. It was obvious to all that the two weren't on very good terms at the moment.

She scowled at him, flipping her long red hair behind her shoulder. "Is this a crime now? Sitting down?"

"Well go sit somewhere else!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" she retorted, glaring.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Harriet," she said, ignoring the two redheads who were glaring at each other, "this is Ginny, Ron's sister. She's a sixth year."

"Yeah, she's also your biggest fan," said Ron snidely.

Harriet watched Ginny go red. With a furious glare at her brother, she stood up and left without another word.

"Ron!" scolded Hermione, frowning.

"What!" said Ron, "Why can't she go bug someone else?"

"She's your sister!"

"So what?"

It was around this time that Harriet and Neville decided to part ways and go to bed, leaving their squabbling friends in front of the fire.

When Harriet reached the top landing that hosted the dormitories of the seventh year girls, she did not retire to bed. Instead, she rummaged inside her trunk and carefully pulled out a long silvery cloak. Smiling deviously, Harriet looked around to make sure that no one was there to see her before pulling on the cloak and disappearing. Out of all of her possessions, Harriet felt that the invisibility cloak that her father had left her was her most valuable treasure. As an afterthought, Harriet pulled the curtains around her four-poster bed and tiptoed back down to where Ron and Hermione were still arguing.

"Oh, for goodness' sake Ron! Ginny is sixteen years old! She can date whoever she wants!"

"Well, why did it have to be that prat—?"

"Oh, you're _hopeless_!"

Carefully dodging them and walking around other lounging Gryffindors, Harriet carefully and noiselessly pushed open the portrait hole, much to the bewilderment of the Fat Lady, and sneaked out of the room, taking care to push the portrait close again.

The entire castle was hers for the night. Harriet felt an inborn thrill of excitement swell up inside her at this risky adventure. Hogwarts castle, though dreary and gothic compared to the bright, luxurious design of the palace of Beauxbaton, was much larger than her old school. It was still her first week in Hogwarts but she had already been informed of the various secrets that lay hidden in the school. What particularly interested her was what the students called the "Room of Requirement." Harriet was tempted to try and find it, but with some self-control, she willed the thought out of her head.

_Another time_, she reassured herself, walking quietly to the library, _this is more important…_

A few minutes later she found herself, wand lighted, inside the restricted section. For a long time she scanned the shelves, taking care not to disturb some of the darker-looking books. As minutes ticked by, Harriet felt the excitement being replaced by bitter disappointment. The book she so desperately needed just had to be here…

At the last bookshelf near the end of the row, Harriet, with resignation, stooped down to check the bottom shelf and stopped breathing, pleasantly surprised. The excitement rushed back into her veins and, heart thumping and grinning brightly, she pulled out a book entitled _Living a Double Life _from a dusty shelf and tucked it underneath her arm with relish. She wasn't really stealing… just borrowing for an indefinite amount of time…

Tiptoeing out of the library and into the corridor, Harriet extinguished her wand. All of a sudden she was trapped in a thick, impenetrable blackness. The sudden darkness stunned her and she stood rooted to the spot for a moment, resisting the tempting urge to relight her wand. Blinking rapidly, Harriet took an unsteady step forward and heard something that made her heart stop. Footsteps were reaching her from one end of the hallway, but still blind and unadjusted to the dark, Harriet had no idea as to where which end was. Harriet took more steps forward with her hands outstretched and felt the cool wall of the other side of the corridor. Slowly, she crept along the wall, her shoulder dragging on it, until she felt the end; Harriet turned the corner blindly and—

"Argh!"

Several things happened at once. Harriet collided with a solid body that staggered on collision and Harriet lost her balance and fell back against the wall. Her invisibility cloak sliding off, she made a frantic grab to right it, causing the book to slip from under her arm and fall heavily on the feet of the other person— who then yelped in surprise and pain. There was a scramble and there was the sound of the book being lifted from the floor. In the confusion and panic, Harriet found her wand and lit it, only to quickly extinguish it again in horror. In the blind darkness once more, Harriet heard the other person curse, and suddenly there was light again. With super fast reflexes, Harriet aimed a strong kick at the other person's shins and there was another yelp of pain, the clatter of a wand and the thud of a book hitting the floor— darkness again!

This time Harriet was prepared. Very quickly, she grabbed her fallen book and ran blindly down the corridor, one hand out in front of her. She risked a backwards glance as she felt her way up a staircase and saw the distant outline of Severus Snape holding his lighted wand aloft, standing in the very spot she had collided with him and groping the air near him as if expecting to catch an invisible body.

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"Blimey, Harriet, you look awful!" said Neville over breakfast the next morning.

Harriet yawned in response and nodded absently, reaching for her pumpkin juice and knocking it over instead, spilling the contents onto the white tablecloth. "Oh, s'rry—"

Hermione pointed her wand at the spill and said, "Tergeo!"

The tablecloth cleaned instantly and Harriet gave Hermione a grateful smile, "Thanks."

Harriet had not been able to sleep a wink last night. Her thoughts frequently wandered to the Potions Master. Had he found out? Did he know? Did he go to the library to investigate? Did he know which book had gone missing?

"Hey, look," came Ron's voice, "You two have got Double Potions with Snape today."

_CLANK!_

Harriet looked down at her soaking robes, feeling nothing. Her right hand was still poised in mid-air but the goblet that she had been holding was now rolling on the floor.

"What is the matter with you today?" Hermione asked, staring at Harriet.

Coughing slightly to cover up the awkward moment, Harriet shrugged nonchalantly and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry," she said again, then gestured to her soaking robes, "Er, bathroom."

Harriet was so aware of her new friends' eyes following her back as she walked swiftly out of the Great Hall that she almost collided with a tall figure standing just outside the door. Fortunately, he sidestepped quickly to avoid collision and when their eyes met— _Déjà vu, could my life get worse? _Harriet thought glumly— the Potions Master fled so quickly that Harriet found herself standing quite alone in the next second.

Confused, Harriet made her way slowly up the marble staircase, thinking quickly. _He didn't say a word so does that mean I'm safe? He didn't seem to recognize me, let alone realize I was the one who knocked him on his ass last night… Was he in some sort of hurry or something?_

A wide grin split her face. So Severus Snape didn't know it was she who had collided with him last night. "And I thought these Hogwarts people were smart," she scoffed out loud, knowing that she would have been polishing the entire palace if the same incident had happened in Beauxbaton.

"Excuse me?" a lofty voice said behind her.

Harriet whirled around to face Ginny Weasley. She was wearing an indignant expression on her face, ready for confrontation.

"I meant… er…" Harriet's eyes strayed at a scene behind Ginny Weasley's head and found two bulky boys guffawing as they menaced a small boy that looked to be in the second year. Harriet gestured quickly, "I mean, look at _that_."

Ginny followed her stare and glowered at the scene. "Oh, yes, I see what you mean," she said, much to the relief of Harriet. "That's Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Their sole purpose in life is to follow around a prat called Draco Malfoy… They're all in Slytherin," she added as though that explained it.

Harriet nodded, not really caring either way. "So you're finished with breakfast as well?"

For some odd reason, Ginny turned a bright shade of red. "Yes," she muttered, suddenly looking wary. She opened her mouth to say something else, but at that moment a loud cheer rose from the two Slytherins below. With all of his worst luck, Neville Longbottom had just walked out of the Great Hall by himself, unknowingly straight into the clutches of Crabbe and Goyle.

"Oh no," said Ginny, her voice laced with more exasperation than worry, "Neville's got himself in trouble again."

Without thinking twice about it, Harriet walked past Ginny and descended to the scene. The two rowdy boys, looking more stupid up close, paused as she came near. She gave them an icicle-sharp smile that seemed to freeze them solid to the spot. "Oh, there you are, Neville," she said in a dangerously sweet voice that wasn't directed to him at all. Her eyes were focused intently on his predators. "I was wondering where you went."

Poor Neville was trembling badly, his face pale. His wide, frightened eyes begged for help. Harriet was about to grab his arm and steer him away when another figure closed in on the scene.

A tall, lean boy with sleek, white-blond hair and a proud, pointed chin smirked at her as Crabbe and Goyle retreated to his side. "You need not concern yourself defending such a worthless worm like Longbottom, Potter," he drawled lazily, mocking, "He's not worthy of your legend, much less having you as his savior."

His arrogant eyes raked her body and the smirk grew. "What's this? Wet yourself with fear, have you?"

Harriet's brows rose, feeling the cling of her still-soaking robes. "Of your ugly face, you mean?" she retorted coolly, "Then yeah, I guess I did."

The tall boy's eyes narrowed and his lips moved to speak—

"She did not!" a third, furious voice shouted. They all turned to see a determined Ginny approaching, wand aloft. Before any of them could react, she pointed her wand at Harriet's robes and said, "Tergeo!"

For a moment, no one moved. Then Harriet said, rather awkwardly, "Er, thanks Ginny."

The tall boy snickered, and his goons snickered with him. "Well, well," he drawled, his eyes twinkling with malevolence, "Looks like you've got yourself a little admirer, Potter. Isn't that right, Weasley?"

Ginny turned red but spat, "Shut up, Malfoy!" She raised her wand, causing the three Slytherins to draw theirs, but Harriet stopped her. She pulled Ginny's arm downwards. "Don't get yourself in trouble because of Mr. Ugly here," she jerked her head towards Malfoy. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "It's not worth it."

"Oh?" Malfoy smirked again, stroking his wand with his long fingers, "Don't try to act noble, Potter. You're obviously afraid."

Harriet, who had taken both Neville and Ginny by the arms and was wheeling them away, stopped in her tracks and scowled deeply. "Yes, yes," she snapped impatiently at him, "I think we've established that fact already. Now if you'll excuse me, I must hurry off to my bed before I submit to a dreadful swoon."

"All right, I'll let you and the Weasley leave, Potter," Malfoy drawled, his eyes gleaming, "But Longbottom stays."

Neville uttered a squeak of terror and Harriet was awed in spite of herself. _Bloody hell_, she thought wistfully, _this prat knows what he's doing._

She turned around to face him and Draco raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Weren't you leaving? Please, go ahead. I insist. I can't have you swooning at my feet too, Potter. I've got enough girls who do that."

Harriet ignored him. "And exactly what do you need Neville for?" she asked slowly.

"Oh, you know," he said casually, studying his wand, "Just a bit of fun." His eyes flicked up to meet hers. "Perhaps we'll play our favorite game. I'll be the Dark Lord, Crabbe and Goyle will be my Death Eaters, and…"

He trailed off and glanced briefly at Neville. "He can be Mr. Potter." He looked at Harriet's face and triumphant satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. Harriet didn't know what expression she was wearing, but the fact that it pleased him seemed to intensify the anger that she didn't know had been welling up inside her.

Malfoy continued, casting a wide smirk at Harriet, "And, as it seems like you want to play, you can be—"

Harriet whipped out her wand so fast that Malfoy barely had time to react.

"DURO!"

"IMPEDIMENTA!"

Harriet's curse hit Malfoy squarely in the chest. The effect was immediate; he froze and turned a stone gray. Malfoy's jinx missed Harriet by several inches and hit Neville and Ginny, who had been standing side by side next to Harriet. They were knocked off their feet and blasted to the other side of the hall.

Crabbe and Goyle howled, brandishing their wands to avenge their leader, and Harriet was equally ready for them. She held her stance, aware of the raging flow of the blood in her veins and the violent beating of her heart. She had never been so angry in her life.

She focused on Malfoy, turned into stone, and thought, _I'll break him. I'll break him into a million pieces!_

Before Crabbe and Goyle could even think up a spell, Harriet pointed her wand at Malfoy once more.

"CONFRINGO!"

"Protego!"

Harriet leaped out of the way just in time before her rebounding spell hit her. She whirled around, ready to confront the voice of whoever had cast the shield charm and froze. She suddenly felt as though she'd been doused in cold water. The fury that had overwhelmed her only seconds before dimmed as a horrible dread replaced it.

Instead of more Slytherins, as she had been expecting, there stood Severus Snape, his wand aloft, his wand arm quite steady. His midnight-black eyes were unreadable as they met her own.

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Chapter Two end.

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Once again, comments and feedback are much appreciated.


	4. For Two Months!

**A/N: **Thank you to my reviewers, once again. It is because of you guys that I continue this tale.

Also, everyone, **please keep in mind** that even though it IS a female Harry, Harriet is quite different. She is the embodiment of James Potter, the troublemaker, not Lily Potter, the saint. So she is much more like her troublemaker dad!

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**Harriet Potter and The Potions Master**

**Chapter 3: For Two Months!**

**By: Kikushi**

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"Detention? For two whole _months_?"

"And on the first week of school too! Bloody hell."

Harriet cringed at her friends' shrill voices as they got louder in volume. She had been lucky that House points hadn't been docked from her house. Otherwise, Harriet would have become notorious in securing the loss of Gryffindor for the House Cup. On the bright side, it was fortunate that Neville and Ginny had managed to stay out of the entire thing, having been blasted to the other end of the hall before Snape managed to arrive on the scene. Harriet had taken all of the blame; not that she particularly minded. Detention was not foreign territory to her; she had spent a fair amount of her evenings in it while she was in Beauxbatons. What surprised Harriet was the incredibly lax way everything had been investigated. The three goons—Malfoy had been cured in the blink of an eye, something Harriet was very bitter about— had been happy enough to lay all the blame on her, making up ridiculous stories and casting themselves as innocent passersby. They didn't even bother to mention Neville and Ginny, which Harriet was glad for. She didn't need her new friends dragged into her trouble.

Harriet sighed absently. She'd always considered herself to be level-headed. It troubled her to think that there were things that were actually capable of making her lose her almost-perfect self-control. But then again, no one had ever insulted her parents the way Draco Malfoy had on their very first meeting.

"_Are you even listening?_" Hermione's exasperated voice penetrated her musings. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville were all sitting on a plush sofa in front of her as she lounged in a chair near the hearth in the common room. Neville and Ginny looked distinctly guilty at having escaped trouble, but there was such awe and admiration on their faces that it made Harriet squirm uncomfortably. Hermione was looking at Harriet, an irritated expression on her face. Ron was still muttering to no one, "Bloody hell, two months! Two whole bloody months—"

Harriet coughed discreetly. "Yeah, er, of course I am."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you aren't. But really, Harriet," she said, launching into another rant, "That was a really serious spell! Using transfiguration on another person is very, very tricky. Not that he didn't deserve it, of course, but you could've killed him—"

"And you hypocrite!" Ginny interrupted enthusiastically, grinning, "Telling me not to bother, you prat, then going on and doing it yourself!"

"Yeah, well," Harriet said defensively, "Didn't you hear him going at my mum and dad?"

"Well, we heard him Harriet, we were right there—"

"He _WHAT_?" said Hermione furiously.

"Don't panic, Hermione, he just—"

"Bloody hell, you must've set a world record—"

Harriet stared at her squabbling friends in hopeless exasperation and quietly waited for them to calm down. She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair and gazed at the fire in contemplation. Her first few days in Hogwarts had so far managed to be more exciting than her last two years at Beauxbatons. _A month in here might put all six years I spent there to shame_, Harriet thought bemusedly. After Severus Snape had descended upon the scene, Minerva McGonagall had the worst timing to come out after him. Needless to say, the Slytherins had been punished with a week's worth of detention with Argus Filch, the creepy caretaker, and Miss-Troublemaker-Harriet had been given two whole months of detentions with Severus Snape. Harriet had a sneaking suspicion that Professor McGonagall had not bought a single thing the Slytherins had told her. The thought cheered Harriet up immensely. The only reason Professor McGonagall had to rest the case was because Harriet herself had accepted the blame, much to the Slytherins' surprise. Claiming so otherwise would have prompted the whole messy explanation involving both Ginny and Neville.

It was close to eleven and the sky was a dark, starless night. The rest of the day that came after the action-packed breakfast hour had been otherwise dull. Harriet had survived the double-potions with a shrewd suspicion that Severus Snape had been eyeing her all the while. It was only natural, thought Harriet. After all, she had just proven guilty to dueling three of his students and almost killing one of them in the process…

"_Harriet_!"

Harriet looked up, alarmed by the shrill voice. "Sorry?"

Hermione gave her a brief glare then sighed in resignation. "I asked you if you knew what Professor Snape had in mind for your detention."

Harriet shook her head and shrugged. "I dunno, but he'll have to think up something good to last two months."

Ron seemed to snap out of his trance. "Snape's detentions are a right bore, y'know— paperwork and stuff."

Harriet stifled a groan. "Brilliant."

"S-sorry," Neville stammered, looking wildly about the room, "This is all my fault—"

"No," Harriet cut in, "It's mine. I shouldn't have attacked him… even though it felt _so_ good."

Her friends grinned at her; even Hermione's lip gave a reluctant twitch.

"Pity you didn't get to blow him up," said Ron regretfully, "Snape had to come and ruin everything."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded at once, "It was really lucky Professor Snape got there in time to stop the fight! If he hadn't gotten there when he had Harriet could've gotten into loads of trouble— and I'm not just talking about detention!"

Ron gave a grunt. "_Still_—"

"Anyway, Harriet, I'm real sorry about your detentions," said Ginny quickly, hoping to end the argument between Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah, me too," Neville said, "But _two_ _whole months_—"

Harriet cringed. "Blimey, stop sayin' it! It gets worse every time I hear it."

Ginny looked at her innocently. "But seriously, Harriet, TWO WHOLE MONTHS. I've never heard of anyone getting two months of detentions. This has to be the record for the fastest and longest detention ever gotten in Hogwarts' history—first week of school, with _two_ _month_ of detentions."

Harriet glared at her. "I'll drive him up the wall," she vowed darkly, an image of the Potions Master flashed in her head and her expression grew grim, "I won't make it easy for him."

The wicked grin she flashed her friends had them all shivering with a dreadful sense of foreboding.

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Severus Snape sat at his desk in his cold, hollow classroom, mulling over the dream he had the night previous. As usual, it featured his lost love, Lily, and sweet memories of their childhood together. It was always the same. But this time—he couldn't be sure—had her hair been darker than usual?

The candlelight on the tabletop flickered and swayed mysteriously in the still classroom, copying the enigma that suited its creator. Its weak light could not penetrate the darkness with no moonshine to help it. The rooms down the dungeons, of course, had no windows.

It was a minute past nine. Harriet Potter was late.

He could not understand the girl. Severus gazed broodingly at the dancing flame. He had thought that she was the epitome of her mother, Lily. Kind, gracious, accepting, beautiful, smart… Had he been wrong? What had driven Harriet to duel against his favorite student, son of his long-time friend Lucius, Draco Malfoy, and his two friends?

A sharp knock on the door caught his full attention immediately. Trying to act as nonchalant as possible, Severus picked up his book, flipped to a random page, and hid behind it. "Enter," he called out coolly.

He didn't look up at once as the girl entered the room. Instead he began, "Miss Potter, you are late and I do not toler—"

He looked up and words died quickly in his throat. A small, far distant corner of his brain briefly registered the sound of the book's impact with the cold stone floor.

Harriet Potter stood at the doorway, eyebrows raised in a rather good imitation of surprise. She allowed her eyes to follow his and blinked curiously at the quite revealing crimson nightgown she had adorned quickly upon reaching the girls' bathroom in the dungeons.

"Oh!" she exclaimed feigning her fluster and reaching for her wand down the front of her flimsy attire, "I was all dressed for bed, you see, when I suddenly remembered that I _had detention. _I rushed here as fast as I could."

A quick flick of her wand later, she was wearing her school uniform. She could barely conceal a mischievous smirk from her face as she stowed away her wand into the pocket of her robes. _Sucker_, she thought victoriously. _Take that! You lousy, detention-giving grease-ball…_

Severus Snape was shocked speechless, though his face did not show it. The only thought he seemed to be able to manage was, _I should really pick up that book…_

When at last he tore his eyes away from her, he stood abruptly from his desk, coolly straightening the fabric of his shirt. "Pardon me, I did not realize that I would be taking you away from a, ah, _previous arrangement_."

Harriet blushed angrily. _What the hell does he think I am? A hooker?_

_Well, you did dress the part, sweetie, _her conscience mocked.

Ignoring her less-than-helpful subconscious, she strutted her way over to the front of his desk and sat down upon it. "That's okay Professor," she said, her voice dripping honey, "You did book me first."

There was a long silence. Then—

"Miss Potter," Severus hissed, his voice constrained with something like irritation, "let me remind you where you stand."

"But I'm not standing," she pointed out innocently.

He glared at her, but continued, "You are here right now because of your improper conduct earlier this morning outside the Great Hall. Perhaps you've been taught differently in your other school, but I assure you, at Hogwarts _it will not be tolerated_."

Harriet abandoned her act and glared back. She wanted so badly to defend herself, but she couldn't… Not when she could accidentally endanger Ginny and Neville too…

"Now, you are here to rearrange these vials—" he flicked his wand and a mountain of assorted glass containers appeared in a heap before her, each loaded with different slimy-looking substances, "—clean out their jars, and re-label them using this."

He pointed at a heavy book lying facedown on the floor entitled, _A Complete List of Potions Ingredients_.

"After that, you will arrange them in alphabetical order in the far-right cabinet over there. I expect you to be done with this in half a month... I have other plans for the other month and a half of your detentions," Severus added maliciously, thoroughly enjoying the murderous look on Harriet's face.

Harriet gaped at the monstrous pile, her mouth open in speechless outrage. There must be over two hundred or more nasty little vials lying on the floor before her!

"And while you're at it, Miss Potter, _Get. Off. My. Desk_."

Harriet straightened herself and walked mutinously over to the enormous pile that was to be the bane of her existence for fifteen days. Suddenly, an idea presented itself in her head and she grinned covertly, lifting her hand—

"And no magic," Severus's voice added from behind her as though he'd just read her mind.

Harriet turned to give him another glare but found him with his back to her, surveying the books on the shelf near the blackboard.

_I hate him_, Harriet thought angrily as she knelt to the floor and took her first vial from the pile. _I hate him so much!_

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Chapter Three end.

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And so it starts! This will mark the beginning of Harriet and Snape's long, winding path to a... friendship? A friendship that may, perhaps, develop into something... more?

Well, being together every night for three hours for two months... something is bound to happen.


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